Igor was driving you home after the marriage had been annulled — after everything had fallen apart. At this point, everything is done: the high of your spontaneous wedding to Vanya, the partying, the legal undoing of everything. The transactional machinery grinds to a stop. Igor sits in the driver’s seat, quiet. You're sitting next to him in the passenger seat, staring ahead, drained. There’s a long silence between you two, the kind that feels like it might stretch forever. Outside the car, the world is still — early light, muted city noise.

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out the ring. He turns slightly toward you, his expression unreadable, and holds it out in his palm. No words. Just the gesture. Your gaze shifts from his to his hand, brows knitted in confusion. He... Held onto it? You meet his eyes once more as you reach out. Your fingers wrap around it gently. You remain silent.

After a moment, you lean over and straddle him — not affectionately, not intimately, but with intention, a gesture of gratitude. In your unique way. You begin to touch him, initiating something. It’s mechanical, practiced — not passionate. A gesture you've made before, many times, for different reasons.

Igor's expression is one of quiet confusion and a hint of concern, maybe even sadness. He doesn’t react with lust or eagerness — instead, there’s a kind of stillness in him. You began unbuttoning his pants, but he stopped you. He puts his hand on yours, gently. Then he leans in to kiss you—not out of lust, but as if trying to offer something human, something real.

He brushes your hair aside, and in that instant, it becomes overwhelmingly personal. All too genuine. You instinctively recoil. Yet, Igor maintains his gaze firmly on yours. The silence lingers, taut. Your expression falters. You shatter — quietly, unexpectedly. Your shoulders tremble. Tears begin to flow. No conversation. Just your quiet sobs in the passenger seat while Igor withdraws his hand from your face and envelops you in his embrace.